


gravity, release me

by lapmonster



Series: life in technicolor [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU, The Flash (TV 2014), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Young Justice: Invasion Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapmonster/pseuds/lapmonster
Summary: It’s awkward, the first night back from saving the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> CW’verse but takes place after similar events in Young Justice: Invasion. Unbeta'd, eheh.

It’s awkward. First night back from saving the world, really, Bart and Jaime should be celebrating. As far as they know, Jaime _isn’t_ going to enslave all of mankind. Mission accomplished! Becoming official members of the Justice League ain’t too shabby either. 

All in a day’s work, as Bart would like to brush it off as. He wishes the weight on his shoulders lifted at the thought, but it only drags him down. He accomplished what he set out to do when he built that time machine; he saved the future, he saved Jaime. He should be free now. After the long debriefing at the Justice League headquarters, now that Jaime has hooked his arms beneath his with wings unfolded to take him home, Bart should feel like he’s flying—not _just_ that he’s being carried. 

But it _is_ awkward. Finally, he’s finished what he set out to do. Finally, they’re safe from that dreadful future that is now Bart’s past. Regardless, he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. He feels like just one more blur in the grand scheme of things, like he’s lost some part of himself. It’s _closure_ , he knows it is, but he feels aimless instead. What now? And there’s something else about this “finally.” Jaime. Not the Blue Beetle he feared, but _Jaime Reyes_. Solid, real, amazing Jaime. 

It burns where the older boys’ hands lay splayed over Bart’s chest as the wind nips at them and silence coats their bodies. “Actually,” interjects Bart, covering a hand over Jaime’s, voice wavering once he spots his great-grandpa Joe’s house. “Can we stop at your place instead? I need to… to decompress, or something.”

“ _No problemo, hermano_ ,” answers Jaime, voice heavy with understanding.

Yeah, it’s awkward. There’s a silent agreement between them that their friendship _meant_ something, that they were close because they were close—and not because Bart was trying to prevent him from destroying everyone and everything. But there’s something more that isn’t quite decided, that whirs inside them like tiny tornadoes and cannot be pinned down. Bart had _gone back in time_ for Jaime, and he knows he would do it again and again—not just for the sake of the world, but for _Jaime_. And that’s a terrifying thought, because he doesn’t really know what that means.

And no, of course it’s not _just_ Jaime, saving Grandpa Barry’s life was kind of important too. Kind of really important. Not to mention Barry’s face when he met his grandson-from-the-future? Absolutely priceless:

_“You… don’t really take after me… do you?” he wondered aloud, blinking at an inhumanly rapid rate then cautiously side-eyeing his then-friend, soon-to-be-girlfriend, then-to-be-wife Iris beside him._

_Bart really couldn’t blame him. Random skinny black teen comes along and tells you he’s your grandson? It was a bit of a shock. “Well, no, maybe not looks,” he admitted, giving a feeble wave to his twentysomething Grandma Iris, “but speed?” He then rushed around the room in circles until he was almost dizzy, wind kicking up papers and pens in his wake. “_ Oh _yeah.”_

_“Huh,” was all Barry could say, though he looked like he was about to faint._

Yeah. Priceless.

But now he and Jaime have touched down on his roof and they sneak in through the window, Bart in a quiet daze. By now, he is really feeling the mode but Jaime just rolls with him, guiding him gently into his room. He sits Bart down on his bed and leaves him to the _tap-tap-tap_ ’ing of his hands on his thighs at the speed of sound while Jaime looks for some civvies that’ll actually fit him. 

It’s _awkward_ , he doesn’t know what to say or do or feel. It doesn’t help that Jaime is now out of his Blue Beetle armor—shirtless, of course—with the scarab staring right at him.

“Bart.”

He doesn’t look up right away, but stills his hands to grip his thighs. He tries to steady himself before finally looking up at him. Jaime puts the wad of clothes in his lap, into his hands. On autopilot, Bart obligingly holds them without protest but also without any move to change into them. Jaime’s still not wearing a shirt, something the easily distracted Bart is trying to ignore, and to not take advantage of his super-speed to steal secret glances. 

He stays uncharacteristically quiet, no more running monologue. No more running away, even if he still flinches when Jaime steps closer—but the tension leaves when his hands find him. All he does is push back Bart’s goggles over his wiry curls, pulling the cowl of his suit down around his neck with it. It’s a simple gesture, but Bart’s breath goes out of him in a rush all the same. His eyes are locked on Jaime’s.

“You did it,” says Jaime, not-so gently knocking the underside of Bart’s chin with a finger. 

A mirthless smirk plays on Bart’s lips, shaking him off. He instantly regrets it, missing his touch.

“You saved the world. You saved me,” Jaime continues, then laughs with a self-deprecating shrug: “You saved the world from me.”

Bart’s grin is short-lived, averting his eyes to stare at the floor again. He decides not to argue with him, not to cite all the other heroes that did so much more than he. The ones who _actually_ saved him, who freed him from the Reach’s hold. He decides an argument is the last thing he wants, even if he still doesn’t know _what_ he wants.

Instead, he asks dejectedly, “Now what?”

“We do what we do best.” Jaime’s fingers find Bart’s chin again, and this time he gets a good grip on it. He keeps him looking him in the eyes. “Keep saving the world.” He shrugs. “Eat our weight in Cheese Wizzies. Be best friends. Maybe… go on a date?”

Bart either stops breathing or breathes so fast Jaime can’t see his chest rise. He sets the clothes on his thighs aside on the bed, forgotten. Then he stands up way too fast ( _super_ fast), almost hits Jaime in the chin on the way up. 

“Whoa!” exclaims Jaime, putting his hands up. “Slow down.” He rests them on Bart’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing over his collarbones. He repeats himself in a quiet whisper, “Slow down.”

Bart licks his lips, searching Jaime’s eyes. 

Jaime’s breathing shallows at the sight, lip trembling ever so slightly in a hesitant smile. “Are you gonna… say something, or…”

But he doesn’t say something. He kisses him. 

It’s slower than Jaime expects, much slower than he thinks any speedster has a right to kiss. Bart grips at his waist like it’s all that’s tying him to the ground; Jaime holds him just as fiercely, as if gravity has been released for the both of them and if they let go they’ll float away into space. They ground each other, but _now_ Bart feels like he’s flying. Jaime deepens the kiss as he presses himself closer to Bart, palm cupping his jaw. He lets Jaime set the pace, doesn’t rush him but he does whine in protest when the kiss is broken. 

“Or kiss me,” laughs Jaime with a shrug when he pulls back. “That works too.” He barely gets the last word out before Bart’s lips are on his again.

Just when Jaime decides that he never wants to stop kissing Bart, Khaji Da exclaims in his head, _Intruder alert!_ and the door to the bedroom sweeps open.

Quicker than Jaime can open his eyes, Bart zips back to the opposite wall like a spooked, albeit super-speedy, animal. Jaime’s hands linger forward, reaching, still stuck in the same position. Bart’s breathing heavily, panicked, but Jaime can still see his pupils blown wide, even if they’re looking in the direction of the open door. 

“Sorry!” cries the “intruder,” pulling the door back to closed. 

Jaime tries to soothe his friend, who now looks more like a cornered hamster than a superhero, “Bart—” He’s about to tell him that it’s just Felicity Smoak and it’s _okay_ , but when he tries to take a step forward Bart _bolts_. Before Jaime can even set his foot down Bart has already zoomed out the window.

Felicity emerges from behind the door. “ _Sorryy_ ,” she repeats, wincing. She looks away again when she notices Jaime is still shirtless. “Your mom said you were studying, when you didn’t answer the door I thought you’d fallen asleep…”

Jaime sighs. Felicity sometimes stopped by under the guise of computer science tutoring. He didn’t even hear the knock. He nods in greeting, picking up the STAR Labs pullover in the pile of clothes Bart had discarded. 

“So,” begins Felicity, darting her head into the room, trying to fill the heavy atmosphere with conversation, “that blur was Barry’s… grandson? Your speedster… friend… friendboy—boyfriend? From the future?” She has met him before of course, as _Impulse_ , on _business_ , but a proper introduction—as in, not one surrounded by flames and chaos—has never been formally offered. And she never saw him in, well, _this_ kind of context.

“I don’t know about _boyfriend_ ,” he says hastily, shrugging nervously as he slips on the pullover, “that was kind of… the first time anything like that has happened so… I mean, he built a time machine for the sole purpose of preventing me from enslaving humankind so, it’s a little complicated.”

“Ah, and I thought my love life was a rollercoaster.” She flinches at her own words, and Jaime can easily imagine the inner-scolding she’s giving herself for blurting it out. “Didn’t need to tell you that,” she mutters, more to herself than to Jaime.

She keeps calm and carries on: “Anyway. Heard about that, of course. League business.” Her lips twitch in a little smile, as if she’s still a little starstruck by her access to the League. “Crisis averted, I guess. But right now, we actually need you in Star City. You… and your, uh.” She visibly struggles for the right word.

“Friendboy,” he supplies with a smile.

“Right.”

Jaime chuckles. “Duty calls,” he responds goodnaturedly, if not a little exhausted, suiting up automatically. “When do you want us?”

“As soon as you find him,” she answers promptly.

He grins. “Shouldn’t take long,” he says, flying out the window in search of his… _friendboy_. 

The world needs saving again. They can talk about what just happened later. Time to do what they do best.


End file.
